


A Small Measure of Peace

by gmariam



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Friendship, Year That Never Was
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 01:10:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6308221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gmariam/pseuds/gmariam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When things get difficult at Torchwood, Owen goes to see Katie. And when Jack leaves them, someone joins him to offer a surprising measure of peace. Rating for language only.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Small Measure of Peace

A light breeze dragged the dried leaves across the ground and around the headstones, an occasional sharp gust whistling through the trees and adding its energy to the impish dance among the graves. Oddly enough, the sky was clear, and a cold February sun shone down on the cemetery and the lone man sitting on the grass, uncaring of the swirls around him, staring unseen at the name before him.

_Katie Russell_

She'd been gone for years, but he still came here when things got tough. Somehow it reminded him of not only what he'd lost, but what he was fighting for, and when he'd saved the world yet again on four hours sleep and six cups of coffee, he needed to know that it was worth the sacrifice. That he wasn't breaking his body and wearing down his spirit for no good reason other than Katie was gone and he'd had nothing else to live for when Jack Harkness had dragged him kicking and screaming into the black hole that was Torchwood.

A bitter laugh escaped his lips. Jack Harkness. Jack _fucking_ Harkness. Angrily picking up a nearby leaf, he shredded it into pieces before starting on another, trying to calm the anger that welled up inside him.

Jack had showed him this world, this messy, complicated world of aliens and monsters and innocent people like Katie who needed to be protected and saved. And now Jack had left, just up and ran off across the Plass, disappearing into space and time and fuck knew where and when. He'd abandoned them after choosing them, after training them, after facing life and death with them. Jack was gone, and God only knew if he was coming back.

A part of Owen couldn't blame Jack for leaving them. They'd betrayed him, after all, and Owen had shot him point blank in the head. Never mind that they'd been manipulated into it, into believing that opening the Rift was the only way to save their loved ones, or that Jack had cruelly tried to set them against one another in a desperate attempt to stop them. It didn't change the facts: Owen's own grief had driven him to shoot his boss. He'd already opened the Rift once and had seen the consequences as time splintered around the world, yet he'd still believed that opening it again would bring Diane back, bring Rhys Williams back, and put the world to right.

He'd been wrong, so very wrong. They all had, and now Jack had left them. Of course he had left them. They had driven him away with their betrayal.

The soft sound of shoes slipping through the dried leaves broke his reverie, and he tensed, knowing it was one of the team sent to find him and bring him back. He hadn't gone into the Hub that morning and now it was mid-afternoon. He'd refused to answer his phone, turning it off as he sat at Katie's grave, shredding leaves as his guilt and grief worked its way through him. Was it Gwen behind him, dripping with compassion and pity? Or Tosh, awkward and confused to see Owen in such a place? Because surely it wasn't—

"Coffee?" asked a quiet Welsh voice. Owen glanced up, squinting into the sun to see Ianto standing beside him with two thermos, one of which he held out for Owen. With an annoyed sigh, Owen stood, brushing the grass and dirt from his jeans.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. Ianto raised an eyebrow.

"Offering a warm drink on a cold day," he said as if it were obvious.

"Yeah, whatever," Owen grumbled, taking it reluctantly even though he was freezing cold inside and could imagine nothing better than a thermos of liquid warmth at that moment.

"You're welcome," Ianto replied evenly. He sipped at his own thermos, glancing down at the headstone. Owen tensed up, protective of this place, this grave, this life that had almost been his.

"I'm sorry about your fiancé," Ianto said quietly, not looking at him. Owen blew out a breath in surprise; how the hell had Ianto known that? The Welshman smiled as if sensing Owen's question. "I know almost everything about Torchwood and the Hub," he murmured. "Being the archivist and all."

"Yes, well, it was a long time ago," Owen muttered. Ianto inclined his head.

"Do you still come here often?" he asked. Owen surprised himself by answering honestly, though he could not look at Ianto when he did.

"When things get rough, yeah, I do. Tends to offer perspective."

Ianto nodded in understanding. "Reminds you why we do this."

"Exactly." Owen chanced a glance at him. "So how'd you get stuck driving out here? I was sure it would have been Gwen with tissues and a blanket, trying to pry my soul from cold fingers."

Ianto touched his finger to the side of his nose with a crooked smile. "There's your answer."

Owen barked a laugh. "She's trying to get you to talk about your feelings, isn't she?"

"Apparently I'm supposed to be falling apart right now," said Ianto. "I think she's a bit disappointed I'm not putting on more of a show."

"Falling apart?" Owen asked skeptically. "Jack left us. He buggered off without a word and left us holding a bunch of cards we don't know how to play. I don't know about you, but I'm not falling apart, I'm pissed off." He didn't add that he was also pissed off with himself.

Ianto shrugged, staring off into the distance as he sipped his thermos. "Exactly. She's sublimating and needs someone to take care of, to talk off the ledge. I'm not that person."

"But you left Tosh behind?" asked Owen, grinning. Ianto shook his head, grinning down at the ground.

"She can hold her own, probably better than either of us when it comes to Gwen. So I offered to come see if you were all right after Tosh tracked your phone." He paused and flicked a glance at Owen. "You all right?"

"Mad as hell, but that'll pass, I suppose," said Owen. He motioned at the grave. "Jack told me what really happened to her, you know. Aliens. No one believed me, I thought I was going mad. Then he offered me a job and I realized the world was far bigger than I ever could have imagined. He brought me into this mess, and now…"

He trailed off, angry once more. In some ways, it was worse than Katie's death. Katie hadn't died on purpose, she'd been infected with an alien parasite. Jack, on the other hand, had grabbed a rucksack and ran out on them, screaming for his doctor.

"You understand any of this?" Owen asked, turning toward Ianto. "I mean, did he ever say anything to you at all?"

Ianto blew out a breath. "Not in so many words, no. But I knew he was older than he looked, knew he was waiting for something, or someone. Gwen said he'd been waiting a long time for the right sort of doctor. It's _the_ Doctor. The one Torchwood was founded to capture and contain."

"Yeah, that's our boss, consorting with a known enemy of the state all this time!" Owen snorted, hating the ugly reality of it.

"I don't think he's an enemy, not really," Ianto replied softly, once again gazing into the distance, as if remembering something. "I worked at Torchwood One, remember. The Doctor is the one who stopped the blood control several years ago, who stopped the Daleks and Cybermen at Canary Wharf… He trailed off, his eyes slipping closed. Owen swallowed his discomfort and cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry about Lisa," he said quietly, realizing he'd never said it before. Ianto's eyes flew open in surprise. "At the time, I was so scared and so pissed off that you'd hid her from us. But you know what? I get it." He turned back to Katie's grave. "I really do."

"Thanks," Ianto murmured, still sounding surprised. They stood in silence for a long moment until another bitter laugh escaped Owen's lips.

"Look at us, the Jack Harkness survivor's club. He brought us into Torchwood and left us on our own after screwing us up with all the shit we've seen."

Ianto's lips curled into a strange smile. "He didn't recruit me, I stalked him until he gave me a job."

"What?" asked Owen in surprise. Ianto shrugged sheepishly.

"I had to get Lisa somewhere safe, someplace that had the technology to help her. He hated Torchwood One, you know that. He didn't want me near his team."

"So how'd you get in then?" asked Owen, amazed that neither Jack nor Ianto had ever given up the real story. On the other hand, given the tragic disaster that had been Ianto's half converted girlfriend, it was little wonder neither man wanted to think about Ianto's dubious start.

"Like I said, I badgered him until he gave me a job. Catching Myfanwy was what did it, I think. That's when he let me in."

"Jesus, Jones, you're beyond determined, aren't you?"

Ianto scuffed at the ground and met Owen's eyes. "Fat lot of good it did. Lisa's gone, and now Jack is too."

"Now Jack is too." Owen blew out a breath. "Look, I'm sorry about what I said last week, about you being his—" Ianto cut him off.

"It's fine," he said, his voice short. "Doesn't matter, since it was probably true anyway."

"Oh." Owen took a moment to process that. He'd called Ianto Jack's part-time shag in a cruel attempt to rile him up enough to allow Owen a chance to open the Rift and get Jack and Tosh back from 1941. He'd only half believed it until Ianto's fiery response. After that he'd had a few days to wonder about it, to watch and listen and try to figure out if maybe there really was something going on, only Jack and Ianto had both seemed distant, and then the Rift had splintered and everything had gone to hell.

"So you and he…" He trailed off, not wanting to ask but wanting to know. Not that it made a difference. Jack was gone, Ianto was not, but it added another layer to Jack's desertion, to disappear like that on someone he was sleeping with.

"Yeah," said Ianto, his jaw set. "Nothing formal, nothing serious. Just…"

"Just shagging?" offered Owen, though it was clear from the look of hurt in Ianto's eyes that it had been slightly more than just sex for him, even if hadn't been for Jack. Then again, Jack had kissed Ianto very publicly when he'd resurrected after Abaddon, and it had been more than a friendly kiss. He'd stayed unusually close to Ianto until they'd gone to get coffee, gazing at him when Ianto wasn't looking. Owen hadn't considered it until that moment, but maybe it had been more than just sex for Jack too.

"Just shagging," Ianto replied with a sigh. They were silent, both unsure what to say next.

"Probably pretty good, if Jack's stories are anything to go by," Owen offered, cringing at the awkward words and hoping he didn't get shot again. But Ianto smiled and nodded; hell, he was _smirking._

"Yeah, he knew what he was talking about," Ianto replied. "Even when it came to the stories you'd never think were true." He paused and nodded to himself. "They definitely were."

Owen faked a groan. "I did not need to know that about you or my boss," he said, and Ianto laughed out loud. Owen joined him, the laughter strange and out of place yet exactly what they needed to break the tension, to relax and start to move on.

"Do you think he—" Owen started, but Ianto was already shaking his head, as if he knew Owen's question without it having to be said out loud.

"Why would he?" Ianto said. "If he's out there somewhere, traveling through space and time, why would he come back here? We betrayed him, Owen. You, me, Tosh, even Gwen. We didn't trust him so we killed him, which released a beast from Hell and got him killed again trying to save us. Who would come back after all that?"

Owen was silent, because what was there to say? Ianto was right, and Owen agreed. If he were in Jack's shoes, he'd have run too. Hell, Owen thought about it at least once a month himself, and his life wasn't nearly the hell that Jack's probably was. The man couldn't die. What did that do to a person? How old was he? Where was he really from?

"Maybe he's gone back to wherever he's from," Owen said. "Or whatever time." Ianto gave him a curious glance. "Come on, he obviously wasn't from around here," Owen said. "Maybe he's been waiting to go home."

Ianto sighed and nodded. "I hate to even think about it, but you might be right. And if that's the case, I hope he's happy after all that happened to him here."

"Really?" asked Owen. "Even after all he did to us—to you?"

"He's a good man, Owen," said Ianto. "I think he carried a heavy burden as best as he could. He doesn't deserve our condemnation. We have no right to condemn him."

Owen huffed, but Ianto was right again. Jack drove him mad with his flirting and his secrets and those dark moments where he frightened them all, but deep down, Jack cared about them and tried to do the right thing, tried to protect them, to protect the world. And they couldn't condemn Jack because they all had their own secrets and sins, except for perhaps Gwen—Gwen who had led their revolt and now had her own cross to carry.

"We should go," Ianto said. "The girls are still cleaning up, and we've got a lot of repairs to start on."

Owen nodded, then leaned down to run a hand across the gravestone, murmuring a silent farewell. He'd found some perspective and a small measure of peace with Katie that morning, yet surprisingly enough it was talking with Ianto that settled him more. Funny how people bonded over shared tragedy. He had never expected to like Ianto yet alone respect him, and yet he did. Now it was just them and Gwen and Tosh, and for the first time since Jack had died and then disappeared, Owen felt like he could go on.

He stood and motioned Ianto toward the exit of the small cemetery. "You're second, you know," Ianto pointed out as they walked. "We need you to sign off on things, take charge."

"I'm a crap leader," Owen snorted. "You know that."

Ianto tucked his hands into his pockets. "Don't look at me or Tosh. We're equally crap."

"You practically run the place already." Everyone knew it, but Ianto shrugged.

"I'm good at keeping things up and running, neat and organized, not at making the big decisions."

"Bullshit," Owen started, suspecting that Ianto made more decisions about the Hub than Jack did at times, but Ianto slashed a hand through the air.

"I'm not taking over Torchwood, Owen. And neither is Tosh. That leaves you or Gwen, and as much as it pains me to say it, I'd rather it be you than Gwen."

Owen swore under his breath. "You're mad, then."

"You've got far more experience in the field, particularly when it comes to combat conditions," insisted Ianto. "I'm not following Gwen's orders and getting myself killed because her bleeding heart drips all over some alien intent on shooting first."

"Ouch," murmured Owen, but he grinned to himself. He completely agreed, yet couldn't help but be surprised by Ianto's blunt opinion. They continued toward their cars, where they stopped to finish the conversation. Something occurred to Owen. "Did you talk to Gwen and Tosh about this already?"

"Just Tosh," said Ianto. "And she agrees. If you don't want command of Torchwood Three, divide it. Let Gwen lead at the Hub, and you take control in the field."

Owen considered it. It still wasn't ideal; he was not used to leading in the field given Jack's larger than life personality in all things, but he was concerned about Gwen's ability to lead even more. She missed so much that Jack saw or anticipated that Owen knew Ianto was right to be concerned; Gwen could easily get them killed with an inexperienced, immature, overly-compassionate but naïve, narrow-minded decision.

"As long as you have our backs," Owen said. "Keep things organized, smooth things over when one of us ruffles some feathers, all that."

"It's what I did for Jack, and I'll do the same for you," Ianto replied. "And Gwen. Probably even more." He smirked to himself, then rolled his eyes when Owen gave him a look.

"Fine," said Owen. "And we'll need lots of coffee. We're down a man, so we'll all be pulling more time."

"Of course," Ianto murmured with smile.

"I know you already do twice as much as the rest of us, but we'll probably need you in the field more," Owen pointed out.

"I'll brush up on my field skills," Ianto replied.

"I can help," Owen offered. "And just so you know, I don't grope people on the gun range."

"Oh, you too?" Ianto asked lightly, and they laughed again before settling into another awkward silence.

"We'll be okay," Owen finally said, trying to convince himself.

"We don't have a choice, do we?" Ianto asked. "We might have to save the world again in a few hours."

"Damn," said Owen. "I was hoping to have at least one day to fall apart."

Ianto nodded in agreement. "Not today, though," he said.

"Not today," Owen echoed. "Right. See you back at the Hub?"

"I'll be there. Might stop for supplies first."

"Okay." Owen opened his door as Ianto walked away. He turned on impulse. "Hey, if the world doesn't end, we should get a pint later. You up for it?"

Ianto stared at him for a moment before grinning. It made him look different, younger and relaxed and much more approachable. "Sure. If we can't fall apart then I'd say we've at least earned a pint, if not more."

"Ask the girls too?" asked Owen. Ianto pulled a face, and Owen immediately agreed. "Too touchy feely right now. Maybe next time."

"Maybe next time," Ianto repeated. "Thanks, Owen."

Owen nodded, got into his car, and rolled down his window. "Hey Jones!" he called.

Ianto glanced up from putting his keys in the door and raised an eyebrow.

"Thanks for coming," Owen said. Ianto nodded but did not reply. Words were no longer needed, especially since they'd said more to each other in the last hour than the last several months combined. Yet they were much needed words, and Owen felt an unexpected comfort in knowing that Ianto had his back. He was almost looking forward to that pint later.

Jack was gone, and Owen was still pissed off, but they had to move on. They'd be okay, together as a team, figuring it out and surviving.

They had to—for each other, for Torchwood, and for the world.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> A few weeks ago I was bemoaning my lack of writing to my wonderful beta, Taamar. So she fired back an email, demanding a thousand words on one of several prompts. And it worked! This one immediately leapt out at me:
> 
> "Owen goes to Katie's grave whenever Torchwood starts to get to him."
> 
> And when you think about it, it also fits this prompt:
> 
> "What does the team do during TYTNW? Just a single, short scene."
> 
> So thank you very much, my amazing beta, for encouraging this scene! It helped me get going on a few other things as well. I'll probably need a few more good kicks to finish them, though.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this scene. I do love stories where we see other team members as close friends, particularly ones you wouldn't expect having moments like this, such as Owen and Ianto. Who knows, maybe Tosh and Gwen had one of their own.


End file.
